See you in hell
by jesscoco
Summary: Rosie Collins is, unfortunately, Lucius Malfoy's baby girl. Not that he knew it until she was eleven years old and already being raised by her muggle mother. Now Rosie's mother is dead and Lucius will do anything to make Rosie his once again. Even hold her hostage in his basement. Imagine her surprise when Fred Weasley shows up in the dead of the night, the Malfoy's newest hostage.


I could feel my breath grow cold as the night grew darker. What time was it, anyways? What _day_ was it? There was no way to measure time in this god forsaken place. For all I knew, I could have been down here for months by now. I knew, however, that wasn't the case. It had to have been days, at the most. This kind of thing should not have been happening anymore. The war was over – Harry Potter had killed The Dark Lord and everything was supposed to be better. Except, it wasn't. There were still death eaters everywhere you turned, pretending to be something that they weren't. That, of course, included my family. Lucius Malfoy was, after all, my father. Not many people knew that, as my mother was not Narcissa Malfoy. Hell, I was fairly sure Draco didn't even know I existed. Something that I was quite okay with, he was a prat and a half anyways.

You see, dear old dad met my mother seventeen years ago when she was traveling. Originally, she was from America. Lucius was the reason that she'd stayed here. Something that he'd had to know was that she was a muggle. Not a drop of magical blood in her veins, which would have surprised anyone who'd known he'd been with her. My mother had loved him, for a reason unknown to me, and he'd simply left one day. This was far before she knew that she was pregnant with me. Before she had any idea that magic truly existed.

Then, nine months later she'd had me. I had an uneventful childhood. There were no great heartbreaks, no broken bones and no schoolgirl crushes. I was, however, different. Something that everyone around me could tell. No one could put their finger on it – including myself, but whenever I was around things were different. It was highly discouraging. Even my mother treaded carefully around me, which wasn't exactly encouraging. You see, I loved my mother more than anything at that time. She was afraid of what I could do, of me. What else could you really expect from a muggle, though? There was no explanation for anything going on with me. At least until I turned eleven years old, anyways. I could remember the moment in time vividly. It was something that ran through my head often now that Dumbledore was dead.

_"Rosie, would you come down the stairs please?" My mother's nervous voice called up to me, making a soft sigh escape my slightly chapped lips. I'd taken to hiding away in my bedroom lately. The light blue walls offered me more comfort than any other room in this house could. After all, my mother had been keeping her distance. _

_"Yes." I called back, flipping a piece of my long blonde hair over my shoulder and padding my bare feet down the hallway and onto the stairs. The moment I stopped at the bottom of the stairs, however, I could see that she was not alone. A tall man, probably around six foot, stood there. He was quite odd looking for my eleven year old eyes. Between the beard that nearly brushed where his belly button should have been and the robe hanging off of his body, she wondered if he was staying the night. He looked ready enough for bed. "Hello," I said politely, wondering what he was doing in my home._

_The elder man smiled back, a smile that reached his gleaming blue eyes. That was what had made me trust him off of the bat. Anyone that could look so innocent, despite his old age, with just a smile couldn't have been all that bad, right? "Hello, Rosalie." Oh no, mum had told him my full name. She knew I hated that. I glanced up at her with a raise of my eyebrow, making her cringe. I sighed inwardly. _

_"Call me Rosie, please." Despite the fact that I said please, it was pretty obvious that it was not really an option. Not that he really would have cared. Why should he? I was a child, he was an adult. _

_"Very well, Rosie. Please have a seat." He motioned towards the couch that was currently empty, his shining blue eyes finding my hesitant mother's. He could obviously sense everything that I could about her – she was terrified of me, and by default, this man. Who was he? A doctor? I did I was asked, plopping myself down on the end of the couch I'd practically grown up on. Seriously, I'd never gone outside as a kid. I'd watched TV and eaten potato chips. It was a wonder how my body was in such good shape. "Do you know why I'm here?" The older man sat down across from me, in the reclining chair that he did not lean back on. I wondered if his old back could take it. _

_"No." _

_"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Albus Dumbledore. I am the Headmaster of a very prestigious school." I nodded my head slowly, my eyebrows raising ever so slightly._

_"So my mum didn't call you to have my checked into a mental ward?" My mother's head snapped towards me, her eyebrows raising as if she had no idea what I was talking about. Yeah, right mum._

_The older man studied my face for a moment before shaking his head, his blue eyes then scanning back to look at my mother. It was pretty obvious that we had a very strained relationship, even though there was also love. So much love that it was really kind of pathetic. I knew she loved me – and wow, I loved my mum. Didn't everyone love their mums, though? "No. I have come to offer you a place at my school. It is.. rather different, you see." You see? No, I did not see. I didn't know anything about this place. _

_"How so?" _

_"Hogwarts is a school of magic. And you, my dear, are a witch." _

That had been the moment that everything started to make sense. My mum hadn't been any more comfortable around me, of course, but it'd given her an explanation. She knew I wouldn't hurt her. A loud noise brought me back to the present, my icy blue eyes scanning the area around me. Why had I even bothered? You couldn't see anything in this god forsaken place. "Oi, watch where you're putting your hands!" An unfamiliar voice called out. A thud sounded after, then a grunt and the sound of something colliding with the ground just beside me. Carelessly, someone muttered lumos and I came face to face with the man I was forced to call a father. How had he ended up shacking up with my mum, anyways? He was nothing short of a monster. He had his wand in front of him, lighting up the room beside us. He glanced at me, giving me no attention and instead staring at the beaten up boy beside me. I recognized him automatically. One of the Weasley twins, was it? Don't ask me which – I hadn't known the Weasley twins in school. I mean, I _knew _them, everyone did, but I'd never actually associated with them. Lucius simply studied of the two of us for a moment, his eyes, the eyes I'd inherited from him, cold and unforgiving. Then he was turning on his heel and marching himself from the cellar, muttering 'nox' on his way out.

"Are you okay?" It had been so long since I'd spoken that my voice was cracked, between that and lack of water. They fed us, sure, but it wasn't often nor was it much. Once a day, from what I could gather. Water and bread. It would keep a person alive, but just barely.

"Yeah," A muttered voice sounded beside me. "Bleeding pretty badly, though." I cursed the fact that it was nightfall – during the day, at least, there was a little light to flood around the area provided by the small window just opposite where I was seated.

"Where are you bleeding?"

"My left leg." I hesitated for a moment before allowing my fingers to grasp at the only source of warmth that I had, a ratted up blanket on the floor and ripped a piece of it off, finding his hand in the dark and pressing it into his hand.

"Tie this just above the cut. It'll keep you from bleeding out." Of course, he'd probably lose part of his leg in the process, but it wouldn't kill him. If he knew anything about a tunicate, he'd know that.

"What is this?" he murmured softly and I listened to him shuffle on the ground, sitting up I'm assuming.

"Part of my blanket."

"They give you blankets around here?" He sounded surprised, which was well warranted. I'd been surprised to find a blanket set over my small body after waking up one morning, but I had a feeling I was a special case. I was, after all, the daughter of the man holding us here.

"We might have to share." Which wasn't really all that bad – it was a decent sized blanket, made a bit smaller due to the fact that I'd just tore it in order to make sure this boy didn't bleed out. There was no more talking after that, though, and I was glad. It gave me a chance to catch my breath.

Were we ever going to make it out of here? It'd be pretty pathetic to find ourselves here for the rest of our lives. Why were we here anyways? It wasn't something I was all that familiar with. Who kidnapped a bunch of teenage kids after a war? My father, apparently. Didn't he know the man he'd served was long gone? I can't believe there was once a time when I'd appreciated why my mother could have taken a liking to him – a time when I'd been so horribly, horribly wrong.

_"Mum, come on, we can't miss the train!" My eleven year old body tugged on my mother's hand, the trolley the only thing blocking me from making her run. Though, I had a feeling that she'd have swatted me upside the head had I tried to go any faster than this. Things were getting better between the two of us – she didn't understand me, not really, but she wasn't so afraid of me anymore. I wasn't so disapproving of myself anymore, either. I understood why I was so different from everyone else – I really was a freak, but there were thousands more people just like me. It was comforting. _

_"Rosalie, you will make it in plenty of time." I highly doubted that – we were just making it to platform nine when my eyes scanned around. What in the name of god was going on? There was no such thing as a platform 9 and ¾'s. Was this some sort of sick joke? That's what I'd been convinced of, anyways, until a flash of blonde caught my eye. It was a little blonde boy, accompanied by a taller blonde man and they were walking straight for the barrier. They were going to walk into the barrier? Idiots. I muttered underneath my breath as I tried to figure out my own predicament. Then, they were gone. Vanished. My eyes trailed up to my mother, trying very hard to contain my obvious excitement. She didn't look so excited though – actually, she looked as if she was going to be sick. "That man," She murmured softly, shaking her head and forcing her dark brown eyes to find my icy blue ones. I looked nothing like my mum, in fact, I was her polar opposite. Where she had jet black hair and dark brown eyes, I had blonde hair so light it was almost white and blue eyes that could rival Dumbledore's. _

_"What, mum?" She shook her head slightly once more and placed her fingers on the side of my face, leaning down to press a kiss to my forehead. _

_"I won't be able to make it through the barrier, I'm afraid. You'll have to go alone. I'm going to miss you, Rosie." I blinked at her for a moment before allowing a frown to take over my face. She wasn't going to be able to see me off? _

_"Okay, mum." I murmured before tossing my arms around her neck, easily done due to the fact that she was merely five foot tall and currently slouched down. "I'm going to miss you too. I'll write you next week." Carefully, I unwrapped my arms from her and took hold of the trolley holding all of my things. "See you for Christmas." And then I was leaving her behind, without another word from the woman, and walking straight through the barrier. It was terrifying, to be completely honest. Black enveloped me, and then there was light everywhere. How had I gotten back outside? This was different though – there were people everywhere with a large train just to the right of me reading 'Hogwarts Express'. It was remarkable. _

_"Come on Ron, the train waits for no man!" My eyes glanced towards the people walking just ahead of me, an obviously large family of red heads. It had been a scrawny boy to speak – probably about two years older than myself, and there was someone completely identical next to him. Odd. That thought had slipped through my mind, however, as I spotted the two men that I had seen walk through the barrier just a few moments earlier. I knew automatically why my mother had refused to come see me off – he was almost identical to me. Though, thankfully, I'd gotten my mother's cheekbones and natural beauty. There was a boy beside him, also resembling the man quite a bit. 'That man,' She had mumbled. Was he who I thought he was? No, it wasn't possible. I hadn't thought so at least, until his eyes fell upon me and he stiffened. Okay, so maybe it was more possible than I'd let on. It didn't matter. None of it mattered._

If I'd known then what this guy was setting out to do, I'd have pushed him down in front of the train. That Christmas break, I'd come home to see him sitting on my living room couch. My mother was apparently just as shocked. She hadn't moved since he'd left her, anyways.

_"Mum, you've got to see the pictures I brought you! They _move._" Christmas break, a time for celebration and presents. Not to mention, I wouldn't have to see Snape for another two weeks. It was a lovely thought, really. I'd been sorted into Hufflepuff house upon arriving to school and I'd never been so accustomed to being a part of a group before. People were very judgemental towards the Hufflepuffs, I'd realized over the last three months, but it was something I found odd. Stupid, uninteresting. That's what we were called. However, loyalty stuck hard here. I'd never once found a group of people so welcoming. They were literally like a family in that small common room. I couldn't wait to tell mum all about it. _

_"I can't wait to see them, princess." Though, as soon as the words had left her mouth the raven haired woman stood stiff, stepping in front of me as if she was shielding me from something dangerous. That was silly of her – out of the two of us, I was the only one with a wand. "Lucius, what are you doing here?" There was panic in her words, making me fight my way around her to see what was going on. The blonde man was there, sitting on the couch that I'd always loved. He looked like he did the last time I saw him – eerily similar. _

_"I've come to see my daughter, Abigail." The look on his face was cold as his eyes finally fell onto me, his reason for being here. _

_"She is not your daughter," My mother spat, looking murderous. Merlin, I'd never seen her actually angry before. She'd gotten mad that time I broke her favorite cup when I was five, she'd spanked me when I colored on her beige wall, but she looked like she wanted very much to kill him. I advised her strongly against doing so – he was, after all, a fully grown wizard. I knew that due to Draco's boosting of having a 'pureblood' family. Idiot. _

_"I beg to differ." The man stood to his full height, towering over my mother's short frame and my own even shorter frame. What? I was eleven, I had every right to be short. "She could be Draco's twin." Draco, my brother, Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy's son. If my math was right, Lucius had been cheating on his wife when I was conceived. Ew. He'd probably cut all ties the moment he found out Narcissa was having a child, his child. His eyes found mine, nodding his head for a moment. "Yes, most definitely mine." _

_"In blood, maybe." My mother spoke, her eyes glaring towards the taller man. "You will never be her father. You left." She ignored the fact that Draco was a name that she obviously did not know. He ignored her, his eyes not leaving mine. Obviously, her words meant nothing to him. _

_"You, girl. What is your name?" _

_I didn't want to speak to him. If he was anything like his son, there was no doubt in my mind that he was a terrible man. I was more afraid of not speaking to him, though, so I told him exactly what he wanted to know. "Rosie Collins." His lip curled slightly as he looked at my mother for the first time in a minute or so, his eyebrows furrowing. _

_"You named her Rosie? Honestly, Abigail." My mouth fell open, obviously insulted. I'd always been happy with my name – well, my nickname. _

_"Rosalie. My full name is Rosalie." He waved my words away dismissively. _

_"That is no better. Your mother was always dimwitted." _

_"Shove off," I snapped, glaring towards him. A smirk spread across the blond man's face as he took me in._

_"I don't suppose that you've been placed into Slytherin? Every Malfoy has in the last century has." Didn't he get the point when I'd told him to shove off? _

_"Sorry, mister, but I'm not a Malfoy."_

What a good first impression he'd made. I shook the thought away as the man next to me spoke quietly, making me snap back into reality. "What is your name?"

"Rosie." I said just as quietly, running my fingers through my far too greasy hair. You think Lucius would at least let me shower – I was his own blood, after all. "What's yours?"

"Fred." Ah, so I was right, he was a Weasley twin. "Do you know why we're down here?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing." I murmured softly, letting my back slowly go back against the floor that I was far too used to sleeping on. I missed my bed. "I'm assuming it's because we're what you would call 'blood traitors'." Fred scoffed at my words, though he had to know that it held merit. I knew all about the Weasley's. They were real into helping out muggles and muggleborns, something that I myself was associated with. During the war, I'd gone into hiding with my mother and we brought several muggleborn students with us. It didn't take much for people to tell them who had organized the entire thing. Magic, while wonderful and dead useful, was just a traitorous. I could not blame anyone who told the death eaters my name.

"Bloody death eaters, I've had it up to neck with the lot of them."

"Well, looks like you're stuck with them for a bit longer." I huffed out, shuffling over to the blanket that was beside me. "I'm heading to bed. You're welcome to come over here and share the covers with me." There was a hesitation in the silence before Fred's voice filled the darkness.

"I'd rather not sleep right now." I knew the feeling – however, I'd given up on the thought of staying awake. I'd been here for too long.

When morning came around, I was awaken with a loud bang coming from up the stairs. I blinked to myself and sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes to see what was going on. It had been the door slamming shut. My eyes followed to where Fred had been previously the night before – well, where I'm assuming he was. There was a slight light here now. He was not there. I gulped, wondering if I was going mad. Had he even been here? My eyes snapped to the blanket covering over me. Yes, he had been here. The tear in the blanket had assured me that, for the time being, I was still perfectly sane. Much more time down here, however, and I'd probably become a complete nutter. A shout from up the stairs made me stand up automatically, though I didn't bother climbing the stairs. There was no way I'd get out of the room.

"**_Stop!_**" It was Fred's voice, he was pleading with someone to stop. My blood ran cold. They were torturing him. Despite my entire time here, I'd never once been touched. No one had held their wand up and forced me to scream. So why were they torturing this poor guy? I paced the floor around me, now that I could see where I was going, and listened to the screams up above me. I wished with everything in me that I had my wand. I wanted to save him. But how could I? I was just one person – one person without a weapon. Minutes seemed like hours before Fred was thrown back down the stairs, literally thrown, and I found myself jumping in front of him to lessen the impact of the hard stone floor. It hurt like hell, that's for sure, but he landed safely on top of my five foot one frame.

He was a complete mess – and unconscious. They'd toyed with him until he couldn't take it anymore. I'd been angry since I'd been in this place – I was being kept hostage in what I assumed to be my father's home, and now? Now they were torturing innocent people. Wasn't it bad enough that they'd killed my mother? Now they were forcing me to watch a poor man suffer? A closed my eyes before setting him carefully on the floor, wiggling out from underneath him and grabbing hold of my blanket to drape it over his tall body. It didn't reach his feet – it would have the night before, but the bleeding was a bit more essential at that time. Now that I could really see him, I could understand why he'd been bleeding. There were bruises and cuts all over his body, it also looked to me like his wrist was broken. He was not in fighting shape, that's for sure. I couldn't nurse him back to health without a wand. One thing was sure though, Fred Weasley had not been thrown in here without a fight. I was more than sure that he'd taken at least one person out on his way in here.

More hours passed, how many I'm not sure, before the red headed boy began to stir. I was at his side in an instant. Though, the sight of me after first waking up was probably quite scary. I was not in good shape, either, but that was purely because of my unruly hair and makeup smudged face. There was also the fact that I was unnaturally skinny. So skinny that it was not healthy, actually. I'd been here too long for a bit of bread to maintain my health. "Fred?" I muttered softly, running my fingers along the line just beneath his hair. It was the one place on his body that was I was sure was not harmed. "Are you okay?"

"Never better," The young man groaned out, attempting to use his hands to push himself up off of the ground. He hissed out in pain, making me put a hand on his back to help him sit up.

"I think your wrist is broken." I sighed softly, flipping my greasy blonde away from my face.

"You don't say?" He sighed, glancing at the offending body object. I glared at the tone that he'd been speaking in. Whether or not he was in a good mood was not my fault – I was trying to help him. He realized this almost as soon as he'd said the words, a look of guilt sweeping over his face. "Sorry," he mumbled, huffing slightly. "They haven't taken you up there right?" he looked almost worried about the fact that I may have gone through what he did.

"No. They won't let a hand on me. I think they're trying to make me come onto their side, actually. My father must think this is the only way." Fred turned his head to look at me, his eyebrows raising automatically.

"Your father?" A gross look fell over my face, one of obviously distaste. I hated that man more than I could have even fathomed.

"Malfoy." Bitter – that's how I sounded. How had my mum been so stupid as to reproduce with that man? I liked being alive, obviously, but there was nothing more repulsive than the fact that my mother's taste in men had been even worse than mine. And I'd dated Justin Finch-Fletchy. Fred's eyes scanned over my face for a moment, as if he was trying to place me.

"Weren't you a Hufflepuff?" Ah, Hufflepuff. The good old days.

"Yes. Two years below you and George." I hesitated for a moment, giving him an almost shy smile. "Everyone knows who you two are in that school." The red-headed man looked proud for a moment before he remembered where we were, I'm assuming. This was no place to be proud of some jokes you'd pulled over on old Umbridge, the hag that she was. I was one of the many students that kept the pranks going after the two boys had left the school in a haste. In a weird sort of way, I'd always looked up to them just because of that.

"So how can you possibly be a Malfoy?" I glared towards him, even though I knew what he was getting at. Malfoys, all of them, ended up in Slytherin. Lucius himself had told me that.

"I'm not. I'm a Collins, through and through." My eyes scanned over the area around us before the door was pulled open. Draco stood there, looking exactly as I remembered.

"Um, Rosalie, my father would like a word with you. You have been instructed to shower first. There are clothes and a tooth brush there." He stepped aside, allowing me to find my way up the stairs. Wonderful. I hesitated for a moment and looked back to Fred, sighing softly.

"I told you so." And then I actually went upstairs, the idea of a shower standing very good with me. Draco showed me to the bathroom, looking very guilty. I hesitated for a moment before reaching out and gripping his arm, making him stop in his tracks. I'd seen him at The Battle of Hogwarts. I knew fully well he did not want this any more than I did. Our father be damned. "Draco, you've got to help him." I murmured softly, studying his face that was so like my own. "They'll kill him." And that was all I said before letting go of him and shutting the bathroom door.

A shower had never felt so good before. I'd never been happier to wash my hair. Seriously, there were piles of grease coating my knotted up hair that probably hadn't been discovered yet. It was over too soon, however, as there was a swiftly pounding on the door followed by a muffled 'hurry up'. I huffed and slipped out of the shower, knowing fully well that someone would barge in here and dress me against my will. That was the first thing I did after drying off, just in case someone decided to walk in. There was a dress laid out for me – a dress that I would not be wearing. Instead, I picked up the fresh underwear and slipped it on my body before pulling my old, warn out and dirty jeans back onto my body, along with the forest green shirt that went to my elbows. It wasn't really a forest green color anymore, though, there was so much dirt coating it that it looked more like a brownish green to me. Shoving my feet back into my shoes, I used the tooth brush and cleaned my teeth as quickly as possible before allowing an actual brush to get the snarls out of my hair. It was something I was incredibly grateful for. That grateful feeling didn't last, though, because a tall man yanked the bathroom door open and grabbed me by my elbow, pulling me from the room. "You are not properly dressed." He muttered, glaring towards me. Was that supposed to intimidate me? Sorry, but I'm pretty sure you're under strict instructions not to hurt me.

"How sad," I mumbled, wincing as his grip tightened around my arm but refusing to complain. I was not weak. Then I was tossed towards a large room and the door opened for me, making me look around in obvious wonderment. It was a dining room. Lucius sat there, looking rather bored. Draco was also there, his face blank as he looked at me. I wondered idly whether or not he would do as I asked him too. My eyes scanned the area around the table, deciding where I would be sitting. Deciding my better option was next to Draco, I sat myself down beside him and crossed my arms over my chest. Lucius was watching me now, looking rather amused instead of bored.

"You didn't like the dress?"

"I've found that pants are kind of a necessity when you're sleeping on a basement floor." It was after I said that that I became aware of a third person, aside from myself, in the room. She was very pretty, despite her unfortunate nose. This was Narcissa Malfoy, once Narcissa Black. She pursed her lips at my cheek. It was very obvious that she was not comfortable having me in this house – why? Well, because I was her husband's love child. One that he had apparently told her all about, surprisingly enough. Not to mention, I'm half muggle. Lucius had cheated on Narcissa with the thing they hated the most.

"You don't have to sleep on the basement floor anymore." Lucius murmured, his icy blue eyes staring straight at me. My eyes glared towards him, almost effortlessly.

"Yeah, and next you're going to tell me that you'll give me my wand back." I was unsure about how old Lucius was – maybe fifty? That seemed like a good age to me. Maybe he was a bit older. However old he was, he was looking at me with an amused smile. Draco was stiffening up with every glance his father gave. Undoubtedly, he knew his father very well. Our father.

"Yes, I will give you your wand back." My eyebrows furrowed at the words, the eyes that were so similar to his following over his unwavering face. "I simply have one condition." Oh, here we go. I sighed softly and crossed my arms over my chest once more. And here I was, thinking I would have at least gotten to eat something while I was stuck up here instead of helping Fred. Oh well, I'd gotten my shower at least.

"Oh please, do tell." I murmured in a bored voice, only intriguing the blond man across from me even more. It was very obvious to me that he hadn't had a daughter – aside from me obviously, because he hadn't a clue what he was doing. Dealing with a teenage girl was very dangerous. I was eighteen years old, trained and lethal. Well, assuming I had a wand in my hand.

"You are to make an unbreakable vow," He paused for a moment, staring at me to see my reaction. I'd learned long ago, mostly thanks to Slytherin's, not to let any feeling washing over your body show. Even if I was inwardly freaking out. "That you will act like a daughter is supposed to act – you will respect me, you will fight _for_ me, and you will do as I tell you." My mind was going a mile a minute. He wanted me to be a daughter to him? That was it? My face remained bleak as I studied over him. I didn't know a thing about unbreakable vows. I know simply that if you break one, it will kill you. I also know the general idea of making one – the two parties must hold their wand tips together and speak some unknown incantation. Wait! He'd have to give me my wand before I made the vow! Surely, he'd do it under much supervision. There would be wizards everywhere. Wizards that were no friend of mine. My eyes turned towards Draco, who looked like he had never seen something more boring in all of his life.

"Okay." I murmured softly, simply nodding my head as if I was completely okay with this. Lucius blinked at me, surprise washing over his face.

"Okay?"

"Yes, okay. What else do I have to live for? Mum is dead." Pain washed over me as I spoke that thought out loud. I hadn't come to terms with my mother's death yet – it was too soon. She died because I was a problem for the death eaters. While I know she was proud of me, proud of my resistance, she was still dead. I'd watched Lucius kill her myself.

"Very well then. Draco, fetch her wand." Draco stood to his feet and left the room without a second glance in my direction. He was gone for a mere two minutes, two minutes that were spent with me staring at a man that I hated more than I hated anyone else in the world and his bride. I would kill him, I vowed silently. I would kill him and I would make him pay for everything he'd done to me and my mother. Even if I died trying. I wasn't kidding when I said I had nothing else to live for – I was eighteen years old without a reason to be here. The only reason I was even slightly okay with myself right now was because I was going to try my damn hardest to keep that man in the basement safe.

Draco returned, placing my wand in my hand. Lucius stood up as soon as he did so, but I wasted absolutely no time. I couldn't hesitate. I raised my wand in his direction and shot out a body bind curse as quickly as I could manage. I did the exact same to Narcissa, who was very obviously looking for a reason to kill me.

"I was supposed to give you a fake." Draco finally said, looking over me for a moment. "To test whether or not you would try something. He wasn't expecting it." Then, he was handing me another wand. It was not familiar to me. "That's Fred's. Get him healed, get him out of here. Now. They won't stay like that for long." He motioned to his parents, looking pained as he did so. There was no doubt in my mind that our father would try to kill him.

"Come with me." I mumbled for a moment, running my fingers through my hair. "You can come with me. You don't have to stay here." Draco gave me a sad smile, shaking his head for a moment.

"No, I do. I've got to stay here. Get out of here." And that was all he said before he literally shoved me from the room, two wands held tightly in my hands. The man who had dragged me from the bathroom was standing there, looking rather shocked to see me. So I blew him away, literally, as fast as I could and ran down the basement stairs.

"Fred!" I called, making his head poke up. He looked like he'd been fretting for a moment.

"Rosie! Are you okay? Are you hurt?" I didn't say anything, instead I tossed him his wand and muttered several spells under my breath, healing up his wrist and his leg. The rest could wait until later.

"We've got to get out of here. Come on." Fred sprung up a whole lot faster than I was expecting him too, shoving me behind him so he could take the lead. I rolled my eyes. What a guy. He cleared the area around us and slipped out of the basement, looking as if he could do anything. I found myself, once again, admiring him. It was a bad time to do so, too. We really did not have time for this.

"Oi, you're supposed to be in the cellar!" A high pitched voice screeched, making me turn on my heel and find one very angry looking maid, her wand held high. There was no hesitation at all as I shouted protego, making sure that myself nor Fred could be harmed by her. It was her own spell that did it to her – she stunned herself, idiot. Didn't she know a thing about a blocking spell? I shook my head slightly and then continued to follow after Fred, who looked quite impressed with the whole ordeal. I was suddenly sure that he had not been held hostage before, either, and frankly, neither of us were really cut out for it. How was there not more people in this house? I don't understand. If you have hostages, you're supposed to be high security. It occurred to me then that most death eaters were locked up, behind bars and never getting out. The thought of that alone made me feel victorious. At least until a red spell shot passed both me and Fred as we raced towards the door, hitting Fred in the back. I spun around on my feet, looking at a murderous looking Lucius Malfoy.

Shit. No, he was supposed to be out for at least another two minutes. Someone had gotten to him. I raised my wand high, much like a person would hold a sword, and we began to duel. He was very good. Then again, I was his daughter. I had just as much skill as he did. Every bit of magical blood in my body came from that man. I was not very happy about it, either. It occurred to me then that he was not dueling to subdue me – he was trying to kill me. He was trying to kill his own daughter. Just like he'd killed his ex-girlfriend, my mother.

"You're becoming a real pain in my ass, Rosalie." The older man murmured as I blocked yet another spell, sending it firing right back at him. It didn't hit, of course, so instead I sent the jelly-legs hex at him. It wasn't something that he was expecting, and therefore he couldn't block it. He gripped onto the wall, murmuring the spell that would stop it. He was just too slow for me, though, as I used my first ever unforgivable. I kept my promise to myself and revenged the woman who had raised me all by herself, watching as Lucius Malfoy fell to the ground in a heap. There were no tears. There was no feeling of regret. Nothing. Nothing but victory, anyways.

**Well, I hope you guys enjoyed this! I literally just wrote it up, I didn't check for errors, so excuse any that may be present. There will be one more chapter to this - a chapter much happier than this, I hope. But hey, at least Draco's cool. **

**Let me know what you think!**

**-Jess**


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